


Ex-Men

by Aishiterusan



Series: Ex-Men [1]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Art, Babies, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Family, Imprisonment, M/M, Marriage, Multi, Other, Pregnancy, Road Trip, Ultimate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22523977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aishiterusan/pseuds/Aishiterusan
Summary: Rogue, Logan, & Nightcrawler — past Weapon X subjects and now former X-Men — are trying to carve out a simple life in Alaska.Charles Xavier and his institute are both gone. The world birth rate has plummeted. And Mutants are once again left on the fringes of society.A "simple life" seems to be more than impossible under the circumstances, especially when Mystique comes into the picture with more news of the Weapon X program.(Art included)
Relationships: Logan/Rogue (X-Men), Mystique/Logan, Remy LeBeau/Rogue, Rogue/Kurt Wagner
Series: Ex-Men [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620658
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been a passion project almost a year in the making! I basically wrote this because I love Nightcrawler and I love Rogue, so why not throw Wolverine and a (nearly) dystopian setting into the mix and call it a fanfic?!
> 
> Hope you like it!

A swell of pain voids within him. Snow clings to his skin in a searing onslaught of frostbite. Even now, he feels himself stilling. 

His heart beats against his ribcage, threatening to free itself under such strain. His balking tendons bind tight as another white-hot jolt of electricity runs through them. 

Sulfur. Brimstone. Jolt. 

He doubles over at the ripping sensation in his stomach. Torn, aching. He crumples into the snow, heaving. The air stings his throat. He coughs. Nothing comes up. 

The sound of helicopter blades slicing the air tears him from the ground. He feels his bruised muscles rend as he induces himself to teleport. 

The wind whips against him like a leather strap and he is almost knocked to the ground again. Lights. Voices. Obscured by the storm, the wind, the snow. 

He blinks. The ice feels like glass in his eyes. 

The dogs, the hounds, are not far off. They give chase with stamina unmatched. 

He stumbles forward and again emerges from a gash of black smoke. Again and again. Just once more. 

He feels the sharp throb in his neck, pinning him to the ground. He is stopped, dead. He feels as much, compelling his body to move and it will not. 

A dry coughing sob wets his mouth. He is descended upon without delay. 

The chained heel of a boot presses into the side of his head. It’s a dull ache, making the blood rush forth. The cold metal bites into his skin. 

“You got pretty far, boy.” A rush of smoke billows into the air, a few ashes falling onto his skin. “Just not far enough.”

The ground begins to tremble, enticing the surrounding trees to shed piled snow. 

There, in the distance, a light cuts through the blizzard. Black, puffing clouds mingle with the falling snow. 

“There goes your ride. Suppose you could still make it if you really wanted to. Might tear you to pieces in the process, but that ain’t the point, is it.”

The chilly metal cleaves his skin. 

“Yeah, you could make it. Tuck yourself away in some dark corner and wait till you get somewhere. Have a whole new life.”

The train passes one car after another, squealing across frozen rails. 

“That what you’re thinkin’, boy?”

* * *

[NSFW] Art below the cut

* * *

_**The Aftermath...** _


	2. A Stupid Comic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the translations for certain words and phrases in the end notes

He lets his fingers roam the ridges cut into his cheeks; it’s a mindless motion. The act is almost too familiar to detect. His two fingertips gently prodding at the old scars, brushing away the fine fur to feel the raised skin beneath. 

“You ever come to bed last night, sugar?” She pours the coffee. 

“Yes. Very late.” He lays his hand back down on the table, a smile already spreading across his face. “But you sleep like a little bear so I doubt you noticed, _Liebling_.”

“You ever sleep, elf?” Logan slides into his seat at the kitchen table. Marie sets a coffee mug down next to him. 

“Never needed much.” His tail whips and curls around the handle of Logan’s mug before he even has time to raise it. “Especially not now, _mein freund_.”

It doesn’t take long for Logan to get roped into the game of chasing Kurt (and his tail) around the kitchen. Soon Kurt is climbing the walls, his tail always just a bit too quick for Logan. The coffee is bitter — much too bitter for Kurt’s liking — but he pretends to enjoy it as he clings to the ceiling. 

“You catch the broadcast about Scott last night? I wanted to watch, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough,” Marie says, turning to face them. 

Kurt stills for a moment before turning his face away. “Why? It’s not as though he’s saying anything different.” He drops from the ceiling, face drawn as he hands Logan the coffee. “His call to arms hasn’t changed.”

“Yeah, Slim’s been singing the same tune for the last year. Don’t see why he’d change it up now.”

Kurt saunters off to the den. He stops before the sofa, reaching down to collect the doll half-stuffed into a corner cushion. He runs his thumb over its button eyes. 

His eyes widen and his back straightens as he suddenly feels warm hands wrap around his waist. The familiar sensation of her head on his shoulder comes over him. He reaches back to softly stroke her hair. 

“Remember, it’s your turn tonight.” She releases him. “I’m gonna go take my shower now.” 

The feeling of another familiar hand on his shoulder breaks his gaze from her. 

“Go for a walk, elf?”

* * *

They stand outside the lighthouse, feet planted on the craggy shore and eyes straying far across the Pacific. The sky always seems to be a terrible dreary sort of grey this time in the morning. 

Kurt remembers when Logan first brought them here. To this lighthouse. 

“You always wanted to go to Alaska, didn’t ya darling,” he had said to Marie. Kurt supposed this wasn’t what any of them had thought when they heard Alaska. 

It was Southeast Alaska, the skinny panhandle that stuck into the side of Canada comprised of mostly splintered and isolated islands. Kurt had thought it was some sort of joke when he saw the high white tower. 

He recalls his exact reaction distinctly. The exasperated tired look of a jester spoiled by his own fun. Logan had only grinned and gave him a pat on the back, the force of which knocked Kurt forward. 

The lighthouse was a former Alpha Flight safehouse, a sort of rendezvous point for American and Canadian government officials. 

It was nice and on the far side of a small island. Isolated but still close enough to civilization for supply runs. Well, grocery shopping, Kurt now thinks. They had settled. Settled; a nice word. 

“So, what gives?”

Kurt picks his head up, remembering he’s not alone. 

“ _Was_?” 

Logan’s eyes are on his shoes as he shuffles the ground beneath his feet. “You havin’ those dreams again?”

The wind picks up. “No. Well, yes,” he says, pushing the hair out of his face, “but it’s just one. The same one. But only sometimes.”

Logan turns back, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a cigar. “What about?” Logan tries to light his cigar but to no avail. 

“Just the first time I escaped.”

“You ever make it?”

“No.” Kurt moves closer to help block the wind. 

“Sometimes dreams are just dreams.” Logan finally manages to get a light. 

“I know.”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

Kurt hesitates for a moment. “We’ve been hiding out like we’re criminals for the better part of a year now.”

“We might as well be criminals to some people. There ain’t no right way to do this.”

“This is no way to live, _mein fruend_.”

Logan puffs out a tight ball of smoke. “It’s survival is what it is. Even Scotty boy knows it.” His face tightens into a grimace. “If ya ask me, we might all be better off siding with him. Might even get something you’d call a ‘life,’ elf.”

Kurt turns fully toward his friend, now glaring. His sharp eyes glinting like copper under the shadows of his face. 

“What?” 

Logan takes another drag of his cigar. “Things aren’t like they used to be. May never get back to it. But there’s not a damn thing for it, is there? All we can do is ride out the storm. Right, ‘Crawler?”

Kurt’s face hardens. “Are you saying we should join Scott’s militant gang of mutants and segregate ourselves from the rest of humanity? The man killed our leader, _Verflucht Nochmal!_ ”

“I know you don’t wanna hear it, Kurt, but that man _is_ our leader. What happened with Chuck… well it was nobody’s fault. Can’t blame him for doing what he had to.”

Kurt remains silent, mouth pulled into a tight straight.

“We’ve been dealt raw deal after raw deal, but Slim’s always tried to make the best of a bad situation. He’s done right by mutants, rallied people to his cause, and finally made a place where people like us can be free. Scott’s got my respect for that. Don’t see why you can’t have a little faith in the man for once. He’s earned it.”

Logan turns to see Kurt’s face slackened, almost as if the words were so hardy they had struck him across the cheek. A moment of silence passes between them before being completely combusted. 

Kurt lunges at him, hands ready to wrap around his neck. “Who are you?! Who is this?!” Logan dodges but Kurt jaunts behind him and springs onto him. “What do you wa—” A pause. “ _Mom?!_ We told you we’d let you see the—”

“Shit, what’s gotten into you, elf?!” Logan flings him from his back. Kurt, as always, lands on his feet. Logan rubs his neck as Kurt begins to chuckle. “Goddammit…”

“Forgive me for being a little taken aback by your high praise of our _fearless leader._ ”

“Can the dramatics, will ya. I’m just saying Scott’s got a good thing goin’ for mutants and all you want to do is turn your nose up at him. It may not be the future you want, but it’s the best chance we got.”

Kurt steps a little closer to the craggy edge of the bluff. “I wonder if Scott knows about these newfound feelings.”

“I’m startin’ to think you’re more trouble than you’re worth, Fuzzy,” Logan remarks, coming up behind Kurt just in time to give him a swift kick in the pants. Kurt falls forward but jaunts in time to keep himself from hitting the water. 

Appearing behind Logan, he quips, “You should know that fur and seawater don’t mix.” Wrapping his arms around Logan, Kurt teleports over the water and drops Logan into it. Logan’s reflexes allow him to grab hold of Kurt’s tail just in time to drag him down with him, though. 

It doesn’t take much time for Kurt to transport himself back to dry land. He’s still shaking himself off when Logan drags himself back over the edge. 

“Well, I think that’ll be enough aquatics for today.” Kurt shakes off his tail one last time before turning back toward the lighthouse. He stops after a step, though, and glances back to Logan. “By the by, I think you should know it’s not _my_ future I’m fighting for.” And with that, he takes his leave in a puff of dark smoke. 

* * *

Marie sits by the windowsill, a perfect vantage point really. A few slippery strands of hair peek out from underneath the towel on her head. She smiles, adjusting her robe as she opens the window.

“Have fun, sugar?” she asks, leaning out to get a better view of the fuzzy blue specter clinging to the outside of the lighthouse.

“Just quite wet, really.”

“Aren’t we both.” Marie sits down on the edge of the bed, giving Kurt ample room to maneuver inside. “You’re welcome to the bath. Just got done usin’ it, though, so give it a little time to warm back up.”

“Any chance I can get you to warm me up instead?” He strikes his usual toothy grin.

“Not in hell, sugar.” Marie pulls the towel from off her head and chucks it at his face. He catches it and whips it over his shoulder. 

She stands up and makes her way over to him. “You got a date with another very important lady.”

His hands wrap ‘round her waist. “Oh, the _hasenfürzchen_ is awake?”

“Awake and just had breakfast.” She removes his coat, tugging at his shirt along the way. “ _And_ just got breakfast all over herself.”

He ducks out of his shirt. “ _Wunderbar.”_

* * *

“So I was thinking we could go out later today,” Marie says, face to the mirror as she drags a brush through her hair. 

“Hm.”

“You been itchin’ to get outta here for a while now, haven’t ya?” She sets the brush down on the sink and turns to him. “Why not? We could use a few things anyway.”

Kurt sits on his answer for a few seconds, water splashing in the wake of the little body sitting in his lap. “Why do you think I want to get out of here?”

Marie scoffs. “Being cooped up here can’t be your idea of fun. Just thought going into town might be nice.”

“I suppose it woul—” He interrupts himself to attend to the little blue furball gnawing on his tail. He twists her round to sit on his thigh and removes his tail from her mouth.

“She’s starting to teethe, isn’t she,” Marie coos, bracing herself on the tub. 

“Yes, and they’re quite sharp.”

Marie leans over the side of the bathtub, towel already in hand. “That’s only because _you’re_ the one holding her.” 

The child squirms and kicks in the air as it is passed from one pair of hands to the other. The blue of the baby’s skin fades almost instantly as its fur shrinks and body reverts back to something a little more human in appearance. 

Kurt soon follows suit and exits the bath himself, pulling the plug and wrapping a towel around his waist. 

“Didn’t you say Meggan used to do this?” Marie doesn’t look up, still toweling and swaddling her daughter. 

He peers over her shoulder. “Yes, when she couldn’t control her powers. She’d mirror those around her without even knowing.”

“Why do you think she doesn’t look more like me, then?”

“Well, I’m no geneticist, but—”

“You know what I mean.”

“I suppose it just has to do with your motherly bond.” His tail swishes at his daughter, always eluding her small hands. “Since she’s immune to your touch, it only makes sense you’d be immune to hers as well.”

Marie purses her lips. “Well, you said you’ve caught her mirroring me sometimes. Just don’t know why she doesn’t do it when I’m around.”

“No need to be jealous, _Liebchen._ Sometimes blue is just better,” he grins in return as he plugs in his hair dryer. 

Marie rolls her eyes before returning her gaze to her baby. Black hair, green eyes, elfish ears; she certainly didn’t need shape-shifting abilities to be striking. 

She smiles. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause her mirroring is a survival technique and she just feels safest with her Mama.”

Kurt runs the hair dryer over his head and then down his chest. “I wonder why she only shifts into you when she’s upset then,” he says as he gives a shake, flicking some water Marie’s way. “Maybe it’s because her ‘Mama’ is the scariest person she’s yet known.” He flips some fringe out of his eyes. “Or ever will know, for that matter.”

“You got no idea, hot-stuff.” And with a playful kick, she’s off.

* * *

A nervous twitch settles in his stomach as he pads down the narrow aisles. His tail strangles his thigh, winding tighter and tighter with every step. 

Though Marie had said it was fine, he still pulls his baseball cap down whenever they pass someone. Even with his hood pulled protectively over his head and his hands stuffed into his pockets, he’s still easily the most conspicuous character in the store. 

“Everyone’s staring,” he had said to her as she languidly strolled from one display to another. 

“Only ‘cause you’re dressed like the unibomber, sugar.”

Marie didn’t seem the least bit bothered by all the attention they incurred. It would be one thing if it was just her and the baby, but all of them together like this was quite another. 

As more people gravitated toward her and their child, the farther Kurt strayed behind them. He still caught wind of all the compliments their little _moppelchen —_ and even glowed with a sort of fatherly pride at them — but was never close enough to be on the receiving end of such praise. 

One woman even cried simply because she hadn’t seen a baby in so long. Kurt silently wondered if she would still be crying if she knew it was a mutant child she was seeing for the first time in years. 

Kurt would end up reuniting with his family in the check-out line. While waiting he spots Logan out front smoking another one of his cigars. Kurt also notices a magazine stand with a lone “Ex-Men” comic slumped into the middle spot. He twitches his brow and turns away. 

Marie begins placing their groceries on the black conveyor belt. She’s almost done when Kurt raises his own few items; saltines and a six pack of his and Logan’s favorite brew. The clerk slaps a plastic separator down without looking. 

Kurt looks down at the separator and then to Marie. Marie reaches over and removes the thing as effortlessly as she does anything else. She then reaches over just a bit farther and takes hold of the “Ex-Men” comic. 

“And this too, please,” she says with a sweet smile. 

Kurt thinks about saying something, but can’t think of the right words before they’re all checked. He can only articulate himself right as they’re walking out the front entrance. The sharp jerk and tight grip of a stranger’s hand on his shoulder shut him up before he can even make the motion to speak, though. 

“What do you think you’re doing, _boy.”_

“ _Was?”_

“I asked ya, what do you think you’re doing, _boy?”_ The hulking stranger punctuates his question with a firm squeeze to Kurt’s shoulder. “We all saw you, ya freak. Stalking that lady and her baby. What were you gonna do, huh?”

Kurt’s taken aback, though in the back of his mind he knows he shouldn’t be. How many times had people assumed the worst of him? 

His face hardens and he’s about to rip the man’s hand from his shoulder when Marie approaches. 

Taking the stranger’s wrist in her own vice-like grip, she removes the offending limb herself. A winsome smile paints her face as she does it. 

“Thank ya for your concern, sugar, but that’s my _husband_ and that’s _his_ baby.”

A few haphazard apologies are thrown Marie’s way before she’s sufficiently satisfied for them all to leave. Kurt walks, mouth drawn and fists balled at his sides. 

Stepping into the truck, he blurts, “I could have handled that myself.”

Marie tosses a dismissive smile Kurt’s way as she finishes strapping their little girl into her car seat. 

“Saving you is what I do, sugar.” She gives her hair a playful flip. “Just doin’ what comes natural.”

Logan starts the engine. “You two done bickerin’ yet? I wanna get this sideshow on the road before sundown if that’s all right with you.”

* * *

“Das ist witzig für dich?”

“Es ist lustig, dass du über einen comic wütend bist.” She spits out a terse chuckle while circling around the kitchen table.

Logan pays them no mind as he takes a swig of beer and slumps even farther into the couch. The girl child in his lap watches curiously as her parents bring their quarrel ever closer to the living room. 

“Sie würden nicht wissen, würden Sie.” Kurt draws his arms to his chest, crossing them. “You’ve never had the pleasure of being hunted down by an enraged mob have you?”

Marie blinks, staring blankly at him for a few moments to let the silence settle in. “You wanna think that over, sweetheart?” 

Kurt can only stare at her and draw breath as she picks up their child and makes her way to the stairs. He waits and listens for the resounding slam of the upstairs bedroom door before making his way toward Logan. 

“Be nice if you two had your little spats in English once in a while.” Logan doesn’t tear his eyes away from the television to say it. 

Kurt drags a hand over his face. “She is rather proficient, isn’t she.”

Logan sighs in a forceful sort of way. “I’m only gonna ask you this one more goddamned time, elf. What’s your problem?”

Kurt’s opens his mouth to speak but Logan continues before Kurt can even get a word out. 

“We get out, you ain’t happy. We shut ourselves in, you ain’t happy. Something’s always botherin’ you. So what is it?” Logan brings the beer bottle to his lips once more. “Just give it to me straight for once.”

Kurt keeps quiet for a few moments, as if waiting for the words to come to him. But none come. Not the right ones anyway.

“I had hoped for things to be different by the time I settled down. I believed the world would change. But now, it seems, we have never been more divided.”

“Things aren’t what they should be, but it’s all we got, elf. All we’re going to get, probably.”

“I suppose so, Logan.”

* * *

He spends his frustration in the basement, vaulting from bar to bar. He had built a similar set-up in Excalibur’s former headquarters. Nothing like physical exertion to keep a man sharp, or in this case, sane. 

After a few hours, he eventually emerges from his home-made gym to seek out a drink. It would have been nice to spot Marie and the baby nestled on the sofa. He found the den to be disturbingly quiet. The absence of noise was disconcerting, namely because Kurt was now left to assume that Marie hadn’t left the bedroom since she stormed off hours before. 

His shoulders sagged. Was she quietly fuming? Too mad to even chance seeing him lest she do something rash? 

It was eerie not to catch glimpses of her out of the corner of his eye. He could normally find her in front of the television, either playing with their daughter or idly watching broadcasts. It was a hobby she had initially taken up postpartum. Sitting in front of that damned television all night while she watched the baby sleep. 

Kurt found it almost uncanny how much his current life had come to mirror his time in Excalibur. If he was honest, it was rather intimidating. How many times would he come to relive his past? 

As the light outside shrinks into a dim evening, Kurt begins to realize that Marie isn’t going to come down stairs. He had been solemnly waiting for her return, having reviewed his situation multiple times by this point. After a bit, he summons up the courage to approach her first. 

He first knocks then enters the room directly after. He smiles self-consciously as he holds the comic up. 

“Did a bit of light reading. Looks like our comic counter-parts die in the first issue. It would appear that our fearless leader kills off anyone who disagrees with him,” he chuckles as he idly thumbs through some of the colorful pages. 

It’s hard to read her as she lifts herself off the bed. She doesn’t seem angry so much as slightly annoyed… or maybe even amused. Kurt can never tell when it comes to that wry smirk of hers. 

“Or maybe it’s just Scott doin’ us the service of keepin’ our identities a secret.” She tilts her head down and looks at him through her lashes, smirk still on her face. “Have you _seen_ my hair, sugar? Apparently, I’m some blonde broad named ‘Rebel’ and you’re some red hellion called ‘Nightstalker.’”

“Creativity never was his strong suit, was it.” He leans into the doorway. 

“I thought it was cute.”

“It’s nothing but propaganda. Just another way to bring young mutants to his side.” 

A short giggle bubbles from her mouth before she sashays over to him. She plucks the pulpy issue from his hand with a smile. 

“I don’t know about you, honey, but I woulda killed for something like this when I was younger. Lost, afraid, nowhere to go, no one to run to. ‘Least now kids got something to tell ‘em what’s what when they start sproutin’ extra limbs.”

He leans forward, tail now reaching out and curling around her wrist. “And what would you know about extra limbs?”

She lets herself be pulled closer and sighs, “I think I may know a thing or two, sugar.” She gives his tail a light tug. “Know my way around this tail, at least.”

“I could concede to that. You _were_ in possession of it for a rather long time.” He leans forward, now quite close enough to count the lashes on her eyes. 

“Can’t say I miss it.” She begins to walk backward from him.

He follows her, kicking the door closed with his foot.“Well you never did learn how to use it correctly, did you? Even so, blue’s a striking color on you, Liebling.”

She laughs. “Wish I could say the same for you, pum’kin.”

* * *

Art below the cut

* * *

This is Dad-Crawler. Full-time dad, part-time hero. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Y'all probably already know most of these but still) 
> 
> In order of appearance:
> 
> Liebling - Darling, Love
> 
> Mein Freund - My Friend
> 
> "Was" - What
> 
> Verflucht Nochmal - Damn it, For Fuck's Sake
> 
> Hasenfürzchen - Bunny fart
> 
> Wunderbar - Wonderful
> 
> Moppelchen - lil chubsy
> 
> “Das ist witzig für dich?” - "This is funny for you?"
> 
> “Es ist lustig, dass du über einen comic wütend bist.” - "It's funny that you're angry over a comic."
> 
> “Sie würden nicht wissen, würden Sie.” - "You wouldn't know, would you."
> 
> Anyway! Hope you liked the chapter! Along with writing, I will also be working on art for this fic since I love drawing my babes! I'll be including some pieces within the chapter but if you'd like to check out more you can find me at 
> 
> https://aishiterusan.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Thanks! Mwah!!! :)


End file.
